Bethingied
by Joanna May
Summary: It means they have a party...


Mrs Druella Black was renowned for her parties. Anyone who was anyone was invited, and those who dared refuse an invitation were treated as lepers. As for those who were not invited...well, they were not even worthy to lick the sores of the social lepers. Druella was very particular in her choice of houseguests.

In fact, Druella was very particular in every aspect of life. Her gardens were tended to on a daily basis, her floors swept just as often. Never a hair was out of place, or an extra pound on her stately figure. Her cupboards, it was whispered amongst the gossipmongers, were as clean the rest of her home, although no one ever saw them to confirm this. Her daughters were their glamorous mother in miniature, impeccably mannered and bedecked in only the best attire.

The playhouse and solitary swing at the bottom of the garden were the only objects in the Black Manor that showed the presence of children. Certainly the sparkling walls and delicate ornaments would have been foolhardy in any normal house. It was in this playhouse that two of Druella's daughters currently resided, accompanied by their cousins, more commonly referred to at Black Manor as "Phineas's awful boys".

Bellatrix, the older of the Black sisters, sat on an old sofa, legs curled up under her slender form. She was just seven, and yet her dark eyes seemed to reflect a wisdom and malice far beyond her years. Her younger sister, Narcissa, sat primly in a hard wooden chair, spine straight and face beautifully blank, like a statue formed from the expensive marble which decorated the Manor itself. Sirius, their oldest cousin, sat cross-legged on the cold floor, looking admiringly at his older cousin, his brother Regulus beside him, hugging his knees tight. Regulus was intimidated by both of his cousins, and was reluctant to go too near them.

"I heard Mama and Aunt Phyllida talking the other day in the parlour, and guess what?" Bella said, her voice implying that whatever she knew would be good for her, but not humanity at large.

"Oh, Bella! You know mama said that we aren't allowed in the parlour" Narcissa gasped, eyes widened at her older sister's daring.

"I wasn't in the parlour, Cissa" Bella rolled her eyes at her sister's stupidity, before adding innocently, "I was listening at the door"

Narcissa opened her mouth, perhaps to tell her sister the perils of listening at doors, but was cut off by her cousin. "What did they say?" Sirius asked, bursting with curiosity.

"Well, young men aren't supposed to know what women talk of in the parlour, but you and Regulus don't count" Here, Bella poked her tongue out at her cousin, and grinned as he mimicked her. "Sirius and Narcissa are be...betrothed"

Bella brought out the long word with pride, and an impressed silence hung over the four children. Sirius and Narcissa exchanged puzzled looks, but kept their silence. Regulus however, at the tender age of four, was not used to such manners and could not help voicing his curiosity. "What?"

"Don't say 'what', Regulus, say 'pardon'," Narcissa told him, tossing her hair primly and giving him an appalled look. "Mama says only mudbloods say 'what'"

Regulus shudders at this. He didn't know exactly what 'mudbloods' were, but they must have been bad indeed if the said 'what' when they meant 'pardon'. "But what does it mean?" He asked.

"Honestly Regulus, you have the brains of a troll" Bella didn't know herself what the word means, but she would never admit it, and guessed anyway. "It means they have a party"

"Do I get a dress?" Narcissa asked, hopefully.

"The most beautiful dress ever, Cissa. With chiffon, and satin, and lace" Bella invented, knowing that this sort of answer would satisfy Narcissa's vanity and prevent further questions.

"Do I have to comb my hair?" Sirius asked, pulling a face, "I hate combing my hair"

"Yes, Sirius. No gentleman goes to a party with uncombed hair, and certainly not a Black" Bella repeated what she had heard her mother say a thousand times, and delighted in the scowl on her cousin's face.

"Are we bethingied, Bella?" Regulus asked, feeling left out.

"I'm betrothed to Rodolphus LeStrange, but you don't get to be. Sirius does because he's the heir and you're just the spare" She smirked at his downcast face. "That's what your Papa said to mine. I heard him. You're just the spare"

"I am not!" Protested Regulus, although he didn't know quite what Bella meant. "I didn't want to be bethingied anyway" He pouted.

"And at the end of the party, Sirius and Narcissa have to _kiss_"Bella added, descending into giggles.

Sirius and Narcissa looked at each other and shuddered. "No way!" Sirius protested, and Narcissa nodded her head fervently in agreement.

Later, however, as Sirius pushed her on the swing, Narcissa thought she wouldn't mind it really. He wasn't bad looking, for a boy, and she admired how fearless and manly he was when it comes to catching toads in the lake. Sirius, too, had similar thoughts. He liked the way her hair tickled his face when he was forced to kiss her cheek in parting, and she made him laugh when she pulled faces whilst eating vegetables. These, the five-year-old Sirius felt, were important qualities when it came to the serious business of kissing girls.


End file.
